


The One With The Crop Top

by westgate



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: And I give you Enjolras in a crop top because don't try and tell me he wouldn't wear one, Dumb boys being dumb, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 07:33:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2100984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westgate/pseuds/westgate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras walks into a meeting wearing a crop top.  Grantaire is in distress about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One With The Crop Top

In a twist of luck, Grantaire managed to _not_ spill his beer on his work uniform when all but choking on his drink. 

Street sketches weren’t the most lucrative way to make a living so Grantaire had a handful of additional part time jobs to pay the bills. These included, but were not limited to, bar tending, DJing parties, and catering. The wedding he had worked that afternoon was understaffed because one of his coworkers called in sick the last minute. In reality, he was probably hungover, the bastard. He didn’t make a habit of it, but Grantaire had shown up to work with a pounding headache and feeling less than his best on more than one occasion and he had still managed to get the job done. Besides, as awful and rude as some of the people were, the tips were fantastic.

He had to stay nearly 40 minutes later than he should have in order to clean everything up from the party, meaning he hadn’t had time to jet home and change out of his black and white suit before running to the Musain for the weekly Les Amis meeting. Grantaire had been on the receiving end of one too many rants about time management from Enjolras, and as much as he enjoyed the attention and riling up the leader in red, he’d rather not be chewed out tonight thanks.

Much to his delight, he had managed to catch an express train, which cut his commute down by a significant amount. He made it to the cafe with minutes to spare. After walking in and ordering his usual, he leaned against the bar and undid his bowtie while Joly and Bossuet rattled off jokes about his resemblance to a penguin.

“Okay last one I promise, but get this -Bossuet, what do you call a penguin in a bar?”

“I don’t know Joly, but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me. What do you call a penguin in a bar?”

“Lost.”

The two of them burst out into a fit of laughter at the cheesy pun and Grantaire couldn’t help but smile at his friends, as annoying as they were.

“Laugh all you want gentlemen, but the tips are amazing and my vodka habit isn’t going to pay for itself.”

Bossuet smiled and ruffled his hair. “You know we tease because we love you. And we’re both really happy you have a steady income now. Here, let us buy you a beer and we’ll toast to it and everything.”

Their round of drinks had not gone amiss. Bahorel had sauntered over and dared the trio to see who could down their beers the fastest (his money was on Joly). And that’s how Grantaire ended up not so gracefully chugging a beer, precisely as Enjolras walked into the room.

In a crop top.

After some not so subtle sputtering, (and losing the bet along with $5) he put his drink down and quickly turned to Joly to hiss a, “ _What is he wearing?_ ”. Joly shrugged but threw him an amused look.

It’s not like his middle-school crush on Enjolras wasn’t glaringly obvious already, to the point where it probably made everyone else uncomfortable. But no, to make matters worse, Enjolras had to walk into the meeting that night wearing a _goddamned crop top_ of all things. Grantaire wasn’t sure if he should thank the gods for Enjolras’ particular choice in fashion that day or give them a very forceful middle finger.

As if he weren’t already attractive enough with his stupid hair and stupid cheek bones which Grantaire not so secretly loved, the leader in red donned a candy apple red crop top with the word “ _Liberty_ ” across his chest (he would) and almost sinfully tight dark skinny jeans. He subconsciously licked his lips like a fucking animal ( _and hated himself for it, what is wrong with you Grantaire_ ) as he gave Enjolras a quick once over. Yes, his midriff was showing, perfectly accenting his lithe form, but his jeans hung low and he could just see the top of the V’s in Enjolras’ hips. Not to mention the dusting of light hair that ran from his navel and sunk down beneath his jeans to-

He white knuckled his drink while trying to look casual and look _anywhere_ but Enjolras. Getting a boner in the middle of a crowded bar surrounded by his friends wasn’t something he felt like dealing with today, or ever really. The meeting started and he found other ways to keep himself occupied -becoming really interested in the number of ceiling tiles there were (74), trying to imagine what Jehan and Courf were whispering to each other and giggling about, memorizing the contents of the bottle in his hands by repeatedly reading the label.

After recounting the ceiling tiles (there were still 74), he tried his luck and looked up briefly. Which was of course when Enjolras decided to make _direct_ eye contact with him. He swore and looked away quickly, missing the flushed look on Enjolras’ face. Enjolras managed to keep his voice composed and to carry on the meeting, the brief exchange having gone unnoticed by all but Combeferre.

The meeting dragged on for what seemed like an eternity when finally, his friends stood to leave. He went to bolt for the door, but of course, _of course_ , Enjolras stepped in front of him stopped him. Grantaire had decided that the universe hated him that day. The express train was just a fluke. He looked at the doorway as the rest of his friends filtered out of the room, Joly leaving with a waggle of his eyebrows, the traitor. He cleared his throat and looked up at Enjolras, finally making eye contact.

“Apollo -is there something I can do for you?”

The blonde frowned briefly at the nickname, before regaining his composure.

“Yes I was just -you were unusually quiet tonight. I was uh. Wondering… if anything was wrong?” He looked down at his feet embarrassed and toyed with the hem of his very short shirt, which was extremely out of character for the steely leader who could move entire crowds with his confidence and well-crafted speeches.

Grantaire felt a knot in his stomach. Enjolras definitely caught Grantaire staring earlier, and it had made him uncomfortable. And he didn’t know how to approach the subject so he was waiting for Grantaire to fess up to it. Or he was going to politely but forcefully tell Grantaire that he wasn’t interested. He knew, and Grantaire’s inability to control himself for a _goddamned hour_ around Enjolras had cost him. Wishing he could sink into the floor and promptly disappear, Grantaire opened his mouth to apologize, but before he could get a word out Enjolras started again.

“It’s just that you didn’t argue with me at all tonight? Which is fine. You’re not obligated to do so. But I value your opinion and I... I was just wondering if I did something wrong? Or if I made you uncomfortable in any way. Because if I did, I am truly sorry.”

Grantaire laughed a self-deprecating laugh, which made Enjolras frown again. “Enjolras, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m pretty sure I’m the one who has to apologize to you for being such an idiot I-”

He was cut off by Enjolras who spoke in a fast flurry of words. “...and I know I was staring at you a lot during the meeting and I’m sorry that I seemed to make you uncomfortable to the point where you wouldn’t even look at me. And it’s very unprofessional to mix my personal feelings for you with the work that we’re doing but you are wearing that goddamned suit and I-”

_“What?”_

Grantaire’s brain had definitely short-circuited. Because no, there was no way Enjolras had inadvertently admitted that he had _feelings_ for Grantaire.

_What?_

Enjolras looked up from his shoes to look Grantaire directly in the eyes. “I haven’t exactly been subtle in my feelings towards you. And I have really tried my best to not let them get in the way of things but I clearly slipped up tonight. I hope this doesn’t hurt our friendship in any way.”

Grantaire began to laugh hysterically. Which truth be told, was a _terrible_ defense mechanism, because when he looked at Enjolras’ face he could see the hurt and rejection written plain as day. He composed himself and put his hand on Enjolras’ shoulder. He could feel the man across from him tense.

“Oh god no no, Enjolras I’m not laughing at you I’m sorry.” Enjolras relaxed under his grip. “This is just? I don’t really know how to process this. This is not the conversation I thought you wanted to have with me. I thought you came over here to chew me out for ogling you like a piece of _meat_ during tonight’s meeting.”

It was the blonde’s turn to question. _“What?”_

“Enjolras have you seen what you’re wearing? Oh my god. You walked into the room and I choked on my drink like a _complete spazz_ and then I spent the rest of the meeting trying to restrain myself from marching up to you, pushing you against the wall, and licking down your chest.”

Enjolras raised an eyebrow as Grantaire continued. “Oh, and while we’re at it I’ve literally been pining over you for the past year and a half.”

The taller man smiled and stepped closer to Grantaire, filling the space between them.

“Oh.”

“Oh.”

Enjolras lifted his hands and placed them around Grantaire’s neck, toying with his bow tie. “You were propped against the bar in a tight suit with your bow tie undone and your top two buttons unbuttoned. I never stood a chance.”

Grantaire smiled as Enjolras closed the gap between them and pushed Grantaire against the wall, kissing him chastely and hesitantly. When he was met with no resistance, he kissed him again more fiercely, Grantaire’s fingers skating across his bare midriff as Enjolras used his tongue to part the dark haired man’s lips. When they finally parted for air, they rested their foreheads against each other and laughed.

Grantaire filled the brief silence.“We’ve both been kind of stupid, huh?”

“Definitely.” Enjolras breathed out.

“So what does this mean then?” Grantaire asked hesitantly. He still couldn’t believe this was happening. Enjolras kissed him again surely, pushing any doubt from his mind that the universe was playing a big cosmic joke on him. The blonde grabbed his hands and spoke.

“This means that I’d like to take you out on a date. And maybe be boyfriends, if that is something you would find amenable.”

“I find that very amenable.”

“And also you should make due on that promise to, what was it? ‘Push me up against the wall and lick down my chest?’ But maybe at my place, because I would _definitely_ like to get that suit off of you” he added with a mischievous grin.

Grantaire smiled and winked. “I should run late and wear this suit to every meeting.”

Okay, so maybe the universe didn’t hate him after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the support! [Come say hi on Tumblr](http://www.westgates.tumblr.com) and follow for updates


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